Crow and Dove
by Kooro
Summary: Six years later, and Eric returns to keep his promise to take care of Sarah. But Eric has his work cut out for him when he has to protect Sarah from vengeful men. Rated for blood and violence. Dedicated to Sarela Jade.
1. Chapter 1

Hello again. For those of you who remember me, I know it's been a long time since I've posted a story but I'm back with all new material: The Crow.

Out of pure chance I happened to watched The Crow and loved it. In fact, I loved it so much that I just had to write a fanfic about it. So here it is.

This is a little darker than the Mary/Marshall stuff I did previously and somewhat sadistic… a little… but that's what makes the Crow the Crow.

Remember, I always accept literary criticism to improve my writing. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of The Crow. The world's just cruel that way.**

The Crow and the Dove

**Chapter 1:**

She was running.

She moved quickly and expertly, swerving around the debris that cluttered the alleys and slipping through narrow slits between the closely packed buildings. She didn't slow, not even when she bolted across the street, nearly getting hit by a passing car that honked angrily after her.

Her breaths came out in rapid plumes of white clouds that were ripped out of her mouth. Her long hair trailed behind her, growing more ragged and tangled as the wind whipped past her. Her clothes were ripped and her exposed arms and legs were scathed as she ducked under railings and pushed herself between iron gates in hopes of reaching safety. Blood trickled down her arm where a bullet was lodged in her shoulder. Her arm hung limply at her side, useless and searing in dull pain.

The rain pelted her from above as she splashed through numerous puddles that collected in the streets. It was cold and the drops of water pierced her numb body. She no longer registered the cold, or even the pain. She just kept running, not daring to look behind her. She already knew what was behind her. More specifically, who.

Shouting and gunshots chased after her, making her heart jump with every explosion. Who knew when the bullet would meet its mark again. This time, she wouldn't get away with a hole in the shoulder. These people wanted her head.

She veered off the street and headed down another long path of twisting side-streets. Her breathing was growing more ragged and she stumbled more frequently. She couldn't keep running for too much longer. But if she stopped, she was dead anyway. A constant tapping where a small object consistently bounced against her chest with every step kept her going.

"Found her!" a voice yelled above her.

Sarah cringed and looked up. A rugged man was standing on the roof and looking down at her through the barrel of a shotgun. Sarah lunged into another side-street as the gun fired, embedding a bullet in the spot she had been only a second before. Sarah hit the ground on her hands and tumble forward, landing back on her feet. She continued running as a stream of curses followed her.

She was almost there. She knew she was. Just a little more…

Her foot slipped in a puddle and Sarah crumbled to the ground, splashing in the mud. Coughing, she scrambled to her feet and rounded a corner as several shots fired behind her.

Desperate, Sarah looked around for a safe place to hide. She could feel tears of fear well up in her ears but she blinked them away. Not now. With her vision cleared, she finally saw her destination. A relieved smile brightened her features for only a moment before a bullet grazed past her face, splitting her cheek.

Sarah cried out and pressed her good hand to her bleeding cheek. She raced forward, forcing her legs to move faster. Ahead of her, the cemetery loomed only a few yards away. She was almost safe.

More bullets fired after her but they all missed their target. Sarah clenched her jaw and sprinted towards the iron fence that circled the cemetery. Just a little more.

She slammed into the fence and immediately started to climb it. The shouting increased behind her. Her pursuers knew they were losing their prey and there guns fired more fervently. With a cry, Sarah pulled herself up and over the cold fence. She jumped to the ground. Her legs gave out and she collapsed.

"Get her!" a harsh voice yelled followed by the sound of running footsteps. "Get her now!"

Sarah risked a look back and her eyes widened in fear as she saw the approaching men. Their guns glinted in the moonlight dangerously. Behind the minions stood their leader, Thrash, best known for the way he treated his victims.

Sarah pushed herself up and, with a ragged yell, rose to her feet and took off running into the graves.

The men skidded to a stop in front of the gate, staring hatefully after their prey as she escaped into the dark.

"What are you waiting for?!" Thrash shouted at them.

The men's expression changed to fear as they suspiciously eyed the graveyard.

"Go in there and get her!" Thrash exclaimed with enraged fury.

One brave man turned to face his boss. "We can't go in there," he whimpered.

"Why the hell not?!"

"Don't you know?" another cowering man asked. "They say that this is where people come back from the dead.

Thrash spat at him, making the man cringed and shy away.

"You good-for-nothing cowards!" he yelled. Yet he took no step closer towards the ominous gate. Just like all the others, he knew what had happened in this same cemetery six years ago.

A man had come back from the dead and killed off an entire gang including their ruthless leader: T-Bird.

With a low curse, Thrash spat at the cemetery and shot off the rest of his bullets into the graveyard. Fuming and breathing heatedly, Thrash spun around and stalked off back onto the street. With their chase over, the men pocketed their guns and trudged after their leader, allowing silence to one again envelop the cemetery.

---

So that's chapter one. A good attention-grabber I think. And yes, this is the same Sarah from the movie, just six years older. Those that make her 18 or 20. I don't know. The movie didn't mention her age. Oh well.

Let me know if you want more. Reviews aren't required but they're appreciated. Until next time then.

Hobey-ho.


	2. Chapter 2

Well here's the next chapter. Sorry it took so long. I've been pretty busy with homework and stuff. Homework during Christmas break is the worst. And now that school's back, I may be posting even less. But don't worry. I'll post. This is a story I plan to finish.

Before letting you go to read – if I even have your attention that is – I'd like to thank my fans first. That's right, I have fans. Hoo-hah!

A big thanks to **AdlerGurl1989** for being a Crow geek. Now I can safely say that Sarah is indeed 18 years old in this story.

And a reassurance to **Helsinki Demon**: I will finish this story. Don't worry about that.

With that done, please continue.

The Crow and Dove

**Chapter 2:**

Sarah stumbled through the graves, leaning on the wet stones for support. The cold rain pelted her mercilessly, stinging her cheek. Her shoulder was sending waves of searing pain throughout her entire arm and her legs were burning from running so hard.

Sarah made her way slowly to a clear patch of dirt where only two graves sat side-by-side. With a gasp, Sarah collapsed to her knees between the two graves. She leaned against the one to her left, breathing heavily as she closed her eyes. Her hand pulled at a chain around her neck and a small object slipped out from under her shirt. Sarah clutched the ring, Shelley's ring, the same ring Eric had given to the one he loved; the same ring he had given Sarah before he left.

A wave of pain pulsated from her arm. She released the ring and clutched her shoulder and furrowed her brow in pain. She lifted her face to the sky and let out a long cry full of pain and her pent up fear that she had to keep bottled up during the chase. Fresh tears spilled from her eyes. She cried at the heavens, sobbing loudly among the two graves that belonged to her only friends.

As he cries lessened and her tears grew dry, Sarah collapsed to the ground, sinking slightly in the mud. She stayed motionless, quiet whimpers escaping from her mouth.

Tiredly, she lifted her eyes to the grave on the right. The engraved words shone clearly in the dim lights of the surrounding city: Shelly Webster. Sarah sniffled as she reached out a shaking hand to touch to cold stone of her friend.

Then she turned her eyes to the other grave, the one that she had been leaning on. She stared longingly at the name on the grave: Eric Draven, her dear friend and caretaker. She managed a smile at the thought of the handsome man that could always make her laugh. But the face in her memory was somewhat altered. Instead of the image of his clear, smooth skin, Sarah saw her friend the same way that she saw him six years ago: face coated in white make-up with black lips in the form of a dark jester.

Six years ago, Eric had come back from the dead to avenge his and Shelly's death. He had saved Sarah then, just before he returned to the grave. Now, Sarah wished with all her might that he would come back again, not to kill the men that pursued her but to take care of her like he used to. It was a selfish wish but Sarah didn't want to be alone anymore.

Her hand moved away from Shelly's grave to reach for Eric's. Her hand fell short but she strained to touch the gravestone. Her fingers stretched for the gravestone but she just couldn't reach.

"I miss you guys," she rasped in a ragged voice, exhausted from running. "I miss you so much."

Somehow, she still had a few tears left to spare as they trickled down her cheeks to fall upon Eric's grave. "I could really use your help," she murmured.

Her hand fell to the ground, only a hair length's away from Eric's gravestone. "Eric," she mumbled as her eyes fluttered close. She gave one last deep sigh and slipped into unconsciousness. The rain soaked her as she lay motionless in the mud, her blood seeping into the earth; her hand reaching for her friend.

Sitting in a tree that loomed near the two graves and the sleeping girl, sat two birds. One was pure black, melting into the darkness of the night. It turned its head to watch the sleeping form and silent graves. It ruffled its feathers, sending stray drops of water flying. It looked at the other bird, a creature that was its exact opposite. Its feathers were a shining white, smooth and soft even as the rain fell upon it. The dove looked back at the crow and they regarded one another for a moment. Then the crow let out a screech and flew up and away, disappearing into the night sky. The dove eyed Sarah for a moment before following the crow.

---

Consciousness came before memory. With conscious came feeling; feeling Sarah didn't want have.

The dark dissipated behind her eyelids and the morning light warmed her face slightly. The sounds of morning struck Sarah's ears: the harsh sound of honking cars and the bustling feet of squabbling people. The smell of cool earth laden with fresh dew wafted to Sarah's nose.

She moaned, reaching for the comfort of sleep but it had already eluded her. She was awake and in pain. Her body was stiff from the cold. Her skin itched where the mud from last night's rain dried on her skin, irritating her sore cheek. Her shoulder was numb. It was better than feeling the sharp pain of the bullet. Her lips were cracked and her mouth was dry. Even worse, her stomach was empty and her body was still tired. The light was relentless and Sarah squeezed her eyes shut to ward of the bright light.

"Sarah?" a voice asked.

Sarah gave a start. Had her pursuers come after her again? No, they wouldn't have addressed her by her name. It had to be someone else: male judging by the deep voice.

"Oh God," she heard the man say. The sound of running feet amplified as it came closer. Someone dropped down to the ground beside her and reached out tentative hands towards her. Gentle hands slipped under her and flipped her carefully onto her back.

"Sarah?" the voice asked again with increasing worry.

Sarah pried her eyes open and peered blearily at the shadow looming over her. A smile cracked on her lips.

"Eric," she breathed. He had finally come for her.

The form leaned in closer and Sarah's smile vanished. She blinked but the face didn't change. The dark-skinned face belonged to her friend, ex-Sergeant Albrecht. He gazed down at her with eyes full of worry.

"Can you hear me?" he asked.

Sarah nodded numbly.

"What happened?"

Sarah opened her mouth to explain but no sound came out.

"Jeez, you look like hell. What trouble are you in now?" Albrecht asked as his eyes scanned Sarah's beaten body.

Sarah couldn't speak. She just stared listlessly at the officer. He watched her for a moment. Then, with decisive movements, placed a bouquet of flowers between Shelly and Eric's graves and slipped his hands under Sarah's prone body. He hefted her up into his arms with a grunt, clutching her shivering body to his chest.

"I come by to pay my respects and stumble upon a lost kid," he murmured to himself disbelievingly. "Now what am I gonna do with you?"

He looked down at Sarah as he started across the cemetery towards the open gate. Sarah just smiled gratefully at him. He sighed and shook his head. "I swear, the trouble you get into."

Still smiling, Sarah let her eyes close as she slipped back into a light sleep. Albrecht sighed again and carried the smaller girl to his car. With some struggling, he placed her on the passenger seat, belted her in and took his place behind the wheel. He looked over at Sarah once more before starting up the car and driving forward towards his house.

"This has to stop before she gets really hurt," he mumbled to himself. "She'd listen to you, Eric."

Albrecht drove through the muddy streets with his sleeping passenger beside him. A lone crow watched his car go from atop the church that stood before the cemetery. It acknowledged the presence of a dove as it landed beside him. They regarded one another. Then the crow flew up and into the graveyard as the dove took off flying after the car.

------

And there's chapter 2. I hope you all remember Albrecht. If not, he's the police officer who kind of looked out for Sarah after Shelley and Eric's deaths. He was the officer who had their case and got in trouble for snooping around too much. He aided Eric in his pursuit of T-Bird's gang and was a great ally to Eric when rescuing Sarah from T-Bird. He's a great guy and I just had to have him in my fanfic.

Well then, until next time I guess. Hope you stick with me.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry this took so long. It's been – what? – a week? I didn't mean to make you wait so long. Been pretty busy. Anyway, here's the next installment of my – seemingly so far – popular fanfic.

**Author's Note****:** Just want to point this out before you read. I'm introducing a character named Officer Cooper. If you don't remember, she's the person who gave Albrecht the file on Eric and Shelley's death and called him crazy for drawing the "Crow" marks on Eric's picture. It took a long time, but I was finally able to get a decent look at her badge and I'm pretty sure it said Cooper. Just a heads up.

Now on to the story.

Crow and Dove

**Chapter 3:**

Sarah woke groggily to the sound of something boiling. A strange and foreign scent wafted to her nose. Though she did not recognize it, her mouth began to water and her stomach grumbled pathetically. There was food nearby.

As sleep ebbed away from her eyes, Sarah looked around her surroundings. She tensed at the sight of unfamiliar walls. She was in someone else's house. But who's? Yesterday was too much of a blur to help.

Sarah turned her head to get a better look but cringed at the movement as he vision swam and her head pounded painfully. She forced herself to focus and finally registered that she was in a bedroom. There was one lone dresser against the wall with a mirror on top. A few pictures decorated the dresser as well as a basin of water, a roll of crisp bandages, and several bottles that contained some sort of medical liquids. A ragged window was beside it, covered with a thin curtain.

Sarah turned her head again, slowly this time, and saw an open door. The smell was coming through there as well as footsteps and the clanging of cookware. So maybe this place wasn't hostile, but Sarah wasn't willing to stay around and find out.

First she had to get out of the bonds she was in. Sarah pulled one hand free from the cloth that was bound around her. The cloth – for it was soft – trapped her entire body. She pulled at it and it gave no resistance. With one free hand, she immediately slapped her hand to her chest to make sure the ring was still around her neck. To her relief, she felt the cool metal against her fingers. She quickly freed her other hand and tore the cloth from her body and threw it to the floor.

Now that she could see it clearly, Sarah was surprised. The cloth was a blanket. Sarah caressed her fingers over the padding she lay on as the memories returned.

She was on a bed. How long had it been since she'd been in a bed? She turned her head as far as it would go to the side to see that she was resting on a pillow. She had forgotten how soft they were.

Although the bed was comfortable and she wanted to sink in it forever, she had to go before the owner of the house decided to pay her a visit.

Sarah pushed her torso up with her hands. A sudden pain flamed in her shoulder and she swallowed her cry quickly. She fell back onto the bed with a whimper and trembling lips but she did not cry out. She looked at her shoulder to see that it was tightly bound in a fresh bandage. She trailed her fingers over it. It was very well done.

A hazy memory came back to her. She had been shot by one of Trash's minions. She didn't remember having it bandaged though. Her fingers trailed up to her face where she felt the shape of a band-aid sticking to her cheek. A bullet had grazed her face here. But what happened after that?

Confused and sore, Sarah again lifted her torso from the bed, relying on her good arm. With a gasp, she managed to get into a sitting position. Now she could see the rest of her body.

She gave a slight gasp of surprise to find that she was in a clean nightgown. She remembered running in the rain and falling in mud but the evidence of her current condition contradicted her memory. Her body was scrubbed clean, revealing the soft, pale color of her skin. Her cuts and bruises had been lathered in medicine and bandaged expertly. She was actually clean and it felt good. The nightgown was soft, a luxury to her. She ran her hand over her hair to find that it too had been properly washed and braided with care.

No matter how good it felt to actually live like a normal person again, Sarah couldn't stay. Maybe the owner of the nightgown was a chivalrous person – a rarity nowadays – but Sarah couldn't be sure. She had to get out before something happened.

Sarah swung her feet to the side of the bed and carefully placed them on the floor. She mentally prepared herself for standing, knowing it would hurt. Then, with a deep breath, Sarah pushed herself off the bed and onto her feet.

She collapsed instantly.

With a cry, Sarah fell to the floor heavily. Her legs shook and pain flared throughout her body. They were stiff and sore and refused to walk; refused even to stand. Sarah gasped on the floor as she crawled her way back towards the bed. Gasping with tears strewn on her face, she clawed at the sheets, trying to rise to her unwilling feet.

There was a sudden bombardment of footsteps coming towards her. Sarah gave up on her legs and instead pulled pushed herself into a sitting position in preparation for a fight. Someone burst through the open door and stopped at the sight of her.

Sarah froze in surprise as the tension eased from her limbs and she relaxed against the side of the bed.

"Albrecht," she smiled with a sigh of pure relief.

The ex-officer's eyes were side with surprise as his mouth hung agape. He quickly collected himself and hurried to Sarah's side.

"You ok?" he asked worriedly as he looked over Sarah.

"Yeah," she sighed, leaning her head back. "Just a little startled is all."

"I knew I shouldn't have put you in bed," Albrecht teased now that he was past the shock of seeing Sarah on the floor. "Figured the shock would hit you. Didn't think it would get you this bad though."

His eyes examined Sarah once more before he was satisfied that she wasn't severely hurt. He carefully picked Sarah up from the floor and sat her on the bed. Seeing that she had no intention of lying down, he sat beside her.

"Sorry about that," Sarah mumbled. "Head's a little fuzzy right now."

"Well I don't blame you, after last night," Albrecht replied with a sad shake of his head.

Sarah looked at Albrecht. "What happened last night?" she asked.

Albrecht sighed and rubbed his chin. "Well, I don't know what you were up to but I found you in the graveyard with a bullet in your shoulder."

Sarah nodded numbly. She remembered that now. She was running from Thrash's gang and took refuge in the cemetery. He hand unconsciously went to the ring around her neck, seeking its comfort as she stared at the floor listlessly.

"You ok kid?" Albrecht asked after a moment.

Sarah blinked the images away and looked at Albrecht with a smile. "I am now."

Then a different thought crossed her mind. She looked down at her lap, seeing the nightgown covering her clean and bandaged legs.

"Just one question though," she started hesitantly. Albrecht looked at her expectantly.

"Did you dress me?"

Albrecht looked shocked for a moment but then he broke out in a hearty laugh, making his mustache ripple. He patted Sarah's back as he clutched his stomach from the laughter.

"No, no my dear girl," he chuckled. "You don't have to worry about that. I wouldn't even dare." He smiled at Sarah warmly as his laughter subsided. "I've seen the last guy who tried to put you in a dress."

Sarah smiled ruefully. Her actions were always relayed to Officer Albrecht some way or another, even though he was no longer in the service.

"No, I didn't clean you up," Albrecht continued, ruffling Sarah's hair slightly. "Officer Cooper did. You remember her right?"

Sarah pretended to think about it. Truth was, she had forgotten a lot of things. Those very same memories were things she wanted to forget; things she was better off not remembering. The officers at the police station were one of them. Most of the last six years had been voluntarily wiped from her memory. Besides her friend and mother of course, and the two people that slept in the cemetery.

"Sorry, can't recall," she answered apologetically.

"Nah," Albrecht said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "No problem. You can just meet her again."

As if on cue, a dark-skinned woman entered the room with a bowl of steaming liquid on a tray. She had a gentle smile that revealed her white teeth. Her chocolate eyes were warm and sparkling with mischief. A shock of curly hair jostled on her head as she walked over to the bed.

"Glad to see you're feeling better sweetie," she said as she placed the tray on the bed beside Sarah.

Sarah looked down into the bowl, her stomach rumbling lowly as she inhaled the scent of spices coming from the soup that was in the bowl. Her mouth watered. But she forced herself to look away and focus on Officer Cooper.

"How long was I out?" she asked.

"For the rest of the night and the whole day," Officer Cooper replied sadly. "It was a little hard getting you cleaned up but I managed." She gave Sarah a wink. "And don't even think about saying that you owe me one."

Sarah smiled gratefully back at her.

"Well," Officer Cooper said, "you eat your soup and get some more rest." She looked at Albrecht. "I'll have to get back to the station. If you need me, just call."

Albrecht nodded and Officer Cooper smiled. Then she bent down to place a soft kiss on Albrecht's lips. They parted and Officer Cooper left the room, smiling at Sarah and waving at her. Sarah waved back and then Officer Cooper was gone.

Sarah turned to face Albrecht with a smirking smile on her face. "What was that?" she asked.

Albrecht blushed and looked away as he rubbed her mustache. "Well, Officer Cooper and I… we're kinda… you know… seeing each other."

"You dog," Sarah laughed, giving her friend a light punch on the shoulder. "When did that start?"

Albrecht coughed embarrassedly. "Well, she helped me a lot with Eric's case and she was always giving me info for those tough cases. After I divorced with my wife and quit my job, she was just there. So, I decided to see where she took me and… here we are."

Sarah nodded with a growing smile. "Good for you," she snickered. "'Bought time you got yourself a nice lady."

"Enough of that," Albrecht said with mock-seriousness. He couldn't hide the smile playing on his lips. "Shut up and eat your soup."

He stood up and looked at Sarah. "I'll give you some privacy. Just call if you need anything."

Sarah nodded in agreement and Albrecht headed towards the door.

"Albrecht?" Sarah asked suddenly.

Albrecht turned and looked back at her.

"Thanks," she said sincerely.

Albrecht nodded with a smile and left the room.

Sarah listened until his footsteps faded away and she heard the radio turn on. Then she put the tray on her lap, relishing in the warmth that seeped through the metal to warm her legs. She picked up the spoon besides the bowl and dipped it into the thick liquid laden with spices and chunks of vegetables and meats.

She took a decent spoonful, blew on the steaming liquid and put it in her mouth. She couldn't help but purr in joy as the delicious soup trickled down her parched throat to fill her stomach with warmth. She took spoonful after spoonful of the decadent soup.

Soon her belly was full and the bowl was empty. Sarah licked the last few remains of liquid before returning the bowl to the tray with a content sigh. Not wanting the risk staining the sheets of the bed, she lifted the tray and once again rose to her feet.

After a filling meal and a good rest, they stood shakily. She slowly made her way to the dresser and placed the tray beside the basin.

There was a towel floating in the basin and Sarah picked up the wet cloth to dab the cold liquid across her face. Feeling refreshed, Sarah dropped the towel in the basin and looked up. She met the cold stare of her own eyes.

Startled Sarah took a step back. She realized that she was looking at her own reflection in the mirror. She lived in a place without mirrors so she never got to see what she looked like. The image seemed foreign to her. Her own face was like that of an alien's.

After six years, she had long grown out of her childish features. Her eyes had hardened, gleaming with distrust. Her face was scratched up pretty bad but she could still see the smooth skin underneath. Her lips were delicate but chapped. Her hair was a dry straw color, stiff and a dull blonde due to lack of care.

Her body had also changed greatly with the years. She had grown tall as well as wide, in certain parts. With little food, her waist was effortlessly thin. But – seeing as she had her mother's genes – she had a full chest and curved hips, making her look somewhat like a peanut.

In a different light, one would have considered her to be beautiful. But here in the dark streets where crooks and pedophiles hunted both day and night, she had turned into an animal just like the rest; a creature living merely to survive in the harsh conditions.

She flipped her hair. She had grown it long in the memory of Shelley but lately, it had become a nuisance. She would have to cut it soon, but not now.

Sarah tore her eyes away from the strange woman n the mirror and stumbled to the draped window. Clutching the windowsill to stay upright, Sarah ripped the curtain away from the glass. As predicted, all she could see was the constant downpour of rain. In the distance, a few lone rays of light trickled from the clouds. The sun was setting.

Sarah closed the curtain and looked down in thought. Dark was coming and she couldn't stay in Albrecht's house at night. Thrash's gang would surely be looking for her and if a trail led to her friend's house, Sarah would be trapped as well as Albrecht.

In order to protect her friend, Sarah had to go. She looked to the open door. She knew that if she tried to leave now, Albrecht would catch her and force her to stay. Since that was the case, Sarah decided to stay a little longer, rest up, and leave when Albrecht fell asleep. Hopefully she would be able to get out of the bed.

Already tired, Sarah trudged back to the bed. She picked up the blanket she had throw and got into bed. She pulled the blanket close around her and snuggled against the warmth it offered. She nestled her head comfortably against the pillow and allowed her eyes to drift close. With a final sigh, she slipped into sleep, setting her internal clock to wake soon.

Hopefully, she would hear it.

Once more, the description of Officer Cooper is at the top behind the label "Author's Note" in case you missed it the first time.

Well then, that was the chapter. I'm sure you're all waiting for Eric to come. Be patient a little longer. He's coming in Chapter 5. I just need to give you plenty of background info on the new Sarah and everyone who's going to be involved in the story. Just a little longer, Eric's coming. (Kinda ominous huh?)


	4. Chapter 4

**I am sooooo sorry. I know this took forever to post and, believe me, your replies have not gone unnoticed. School has just been busy as hell with preparations for testing and finals. I finally got a reprieve and some time to continue writing. **

**Anyway, I'm glad your still reading and I hope you continue. I'd hate to lose my readers. Again, I'm sorry this took for freaking-ever to post. **

**This is the next chapter. I hope you enjoy.**

The Crow and The Dove

**Chapter 4:**

Sarah opened her eyes, blinking several times to adjust to the darkness. She sat up stiffly, wincing slightly as her shoulder resisted the desire to move. It was most likely the middle of the night and Sarah had to get moving.

She registered that she was in a bed which triggered the memory of Albrecht's help. She knew where she was even though she'd rather not be there.

Carefully, Sarah swung her legs over the side of the bed and placed her feet on the cold floor. She rose steadily, new strength keeping her up. Sarah looked around to make sure that she was alone but dimly noticed that the shadows on the dresser had changed from boxy and bottle-like forms to something bulky.

On quiet feet, Sarah moved towards the dresser, her eyes picking out the form in the dark. It was her clothes, washed and folded neatly on top of the dresser. Beside it was a new backpack full of something. Sarah reached out her hand and felt the bag. It caved under her touch. It had to be more clothes. Count on Albrecht to look out for her. She moved her hand and hit something harder. She felt it quizzically and found that it was a container of some kind, most likely full of soup.

Sarah smiled in the dark. No matter where she went or who she messed with, Albrecht always seemed to have her back.

Sarah quickly changed into her old clothes, leaving the nightgown folded on the bed. Albrecht had given her enough. She didn't want to take any more from him. She soundlessly slipped the backpack onto her back and started for the door.

In the distance she could still hear the soft murmur of the radio. Even louder were Albrecht's snores. Sarah crossed the floor to the front door, smiling gratefully at the man who had saved her from a cold night in the rain.

"Thank you," she whispered in a voice barely audible to her own ears and slipped outside, closing the door behind her with only a small creak to tell of her departure.

The rain still fell, but lighter this time: a soft drizzle that felt cool against her skin. Sarah pulled her hood over her head, hitched up her shoulders, and started running. She had to get home before Thrash found her wandering the streets. To ensure she wouldn't get caught, Sarah took a shortcut through the cemetery.

Instead of rushing through to get home, Sarah veered away from her path to return to her friends' graves. Along the way, she bent down among the other graves to pick up a few flowers from the bouquets that decorated the cold ground. Since she didn't have the money to pay for a bouquet of flowers herself, the least she could do was honor her friends with some flowers that came from another's pocket.

With her hands full of an assortment of flowers, Sarah made a bee-line towards the two familiar graves that stood next to each other. She stood before them and split her bouquet in half. She placed one half on Shelley's grave and the other on Eric's grave.

"I'm ok," Sarah assured her friends. "Albrecht took care of me. And apparently he was a new girlfriend."

Sarah smiled at the quiet graves. It was normal for her to talk to the only people who had ever taken care of her. It made it seem like they were still there, watching over her from someplace else.

"Good night," she said with a wave and started back on the path towards her home.

At the gate of the graveyard, Sarah scanned the streets for any sign of Thrash's gang. The streets were empty. Maybe Thrash had given up on her tonight. She could only hope. Sarah effortlessly hopped the fence – with only a twinge of pain in her shoulder – and ran for the cover of the shadowed alleys.

Carefully, quietly; keeping all her senses alert, Sarah crept to an old, burned down apartment complex. It was the building where Shelley and Eric used to live.

This building had been left alone for seven years. Everyone believed that it was haunted ever since Eric had come back from the dead to wreak havoc on those that had wronged him. No one dared come near it let alone tear it down or try to rebuild it. Everyone – even the most vile gangs – gave the building a wide berth, making it the ideal place for Sarah to hide in solitude.

Sarah snuck around to the back of the building where a few boards had been pulled away by her hands. She slipped through the opening and started up the creaky and rotted steps to the top floor. She made her way to her friends' former apartment.

The door had long fallen away but Sarah had made her own makeshift door by placing a large piece of cloth on the wall. She pushed the cloth away and entered the room, letting the cloth fall back in place behind her.

It wasn't much but it was home. She had redecorated a little to suit her means of survival. Random junk was strewn all over the floor: items Sarah had acquired over the years to improve her chances of survival. Such things included food, wood for the fire, boxes of trash that Sarah had found useful, several worn blankets that served as her bed, and various containers and objects that served some sort of purpose for purpose for Sarah.

The broken window that opened its gaping mouth to the city had been hurriedly boarded up. It was a poor job, leaving many cracks for the wind and rain to get through. This too had been covered with cloth and cardboard.

Sarah lived like a homeless orphan – for that was what she was – but she lived and that was what mattered.

Sarah placed her backpack among a box of stolen clothes. Sill full from her last meal, Sarah left the soup in the bag as well as the clothes to keep them clean a little longer. She crawled to a large box that lay open on its side and curled up inside of it. She pulled the thin blankets around her, already shivering from the cold that infested the abandoned building. After all the running, her sore legs were tired and her shoulder ached. Sarah longed for sleep to take her but the pain kept it away. Desperate, Sarah did the only she could do to allow sleep to come to her.

She wrapped her hand around Shelley's ring and closed her eyes. She brought up the memories of her friends: the three of them together; happy. She thought of Shelley's laughter as she dangled a toy in front of Gabriel.

Sarah furrowed her brow. She didn't want to think about Gabriel, the pampered white cat that lived with Shelley and Eric. Gabriel had died long ago. Without anyone to properly care for him, he turned wild and died in the streets, as most former pets did.

Sarah changed the image to Eric's smile as he told one of his jokes and the way he played a song on his guitar. It was like the music flowed from his fingers to make the guitar sing. The song was who he was. He lived it. Shelley clapped her hands in amazement and Eric bowed. Then he jumped at Shelley, knocking her against the bed. Shelley shrieked with a wide grin on her face, begging Sarah to help her. Sarah ran over, tackling Eric and they both tumbled to the side. Freed, Shelley jumped over both of them, helping Sarah pin Eric to the ground, all of them laughing.

All of them laughing. Laughing. Laughing.

Sarah chuckled in her sleep, the joy from the memory warming her body as the rain fell outside.

A lone dove watched Sarah from a hole in the ceiling, cooing sadly at the sight of her. It flew inside the room and fluttered to a dry support beam. It ruffled its feathers comfortably and tuckered down to wait out the cold night, its eyes never leaving Sarah's form.

The crow could see what the dove saw even though it was far away, sitting in a tree in the cemetery. At the sight the dove gave it, the crow stood and flew off to find the grave it sought. It landed within seconds at the right grave and started pecking at the hard stone. Its beak drove deep into the stone using the dents that had been previously made by a crow six years ago.

Satisfied, the crow waited patiently, looking at the bright flowers that had been placed at the foot of the grave and, more importantly, the ground that lay beneath them.

---

**And so that's the latest chapter. As is foreshadowed, Eric is appearing next. I know most of you have been waiting for that and so have I.**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Real quick I want to point out that the gang leader's name is in fact "Thrash" not "Trash." The last time I put "Trash" in the story was a typo and I apologize for that. I'll keep a better eye on how I spell his name. I also apologize for the other misspellings that wormed their way into my story. I hope that doesn't harm the appeal.**

**Well then, until next time. Hobey-ho! **


	5. Chapter 5

**This chapter is dedicated to Sarela Jade. (you can ready why at the end.)**

The Crow and the Dove

_**Chapter 5:**_

The stillness of the damp night was shattered as a broken song echoed on the cold night air. A shadowed figure stumbled through the gate of the graveyard and languidly dodged around the graves. His song rose and fell without consistency as a periodic hiccup interrupted the song and was quickly replaced with a different verse.

As the shadow approached the church, the soft light cast from the lit lamps cascaded around the form of a man.

The man was dressed simply in pants and a shirt with a recently patched jacket. A worn, mouth-bitten hat was askew on his head and helped control his disarrayed mane of dark brown hair that swayed over his shoulders.

He stopped his song just enough to take a swig from his bottle of cheap alcohol and then belted out the words to a new song.

Oblivious to the graves around him, the man walked forward and away from the safety of the church's light. He walked further into the dark, his song disturbing a lonely crow that was perched on a gravestone. The crow squawked at him irritably and flew up to land in a nearby tree.

"Sorry birdie," the man slurred with a giggle. "Didn't mean ta inturupt yur night."

The man tipped his hat to the bird and lifted his bottle to take another drink. To his dismay, the bottle proved empty. The man shook it sadly to find the last few drops splatter against the mud.

"Now there's a sad shame," he pouted indignantly. "There goes the last of me drink."

With nothing else to do and certainly no place to go, the man plopped down on the ground and leaned up against a grave.

"'Scuse me mister Eric Draven," the man said, squinting at the name on the gravestone. "Hope ya don't mind if I rest here for a sec."

The man threw back his head and started up another song: one he had heard a long time ago when he had happened to pass a music store that sold records. The store had long ago closed down due to a fire. The records had been destroyed and the manager had to close it up. But he still managed to remember the song.

_It can't rain all the time.  
The sky won't fall forever.  
And though the night seems long,  
Your tears won't fall forever._

His song ended abruptly as the ground pulsated beneath him.

The man gave a violent start as a hand punched through the muddy earth and latched onto his ankle. The man released a cry of pure horror as the hand pulled on his ankle and the earth parted to make way for an emerging figure.

The crow cawed relentlessly, flapping its wings fervently as the shape clawed at the screaming man to pull itself out of the dirt.

The crow dropped out of the tree and flew at the man. The man had just enough time to focus on the oncoming bird before it collided with him just as the figure broke free from the grave.

The screaming stopped and quiet returned to the graveyard.

A single figure rose from the ground and looked up at the sky to relish in the sight of the moon and flickering stars: a sight he hadn't seen for six years.

**_._._._._._._**

**I know it been a long time. Scratch that. A really long time. And I do apologize. I won't go making excuses because they don't matter anyway. I'm back now with a new chapter and that's what counts. **

**I want to thank you for the new attraction to the story. I honestly probably wouldn't have continued without your encouragement since I figured it was forgotten. But you've proved that it's not. **

**I have to give a special and exceedingly warm thank you to ****Sarela Jade**** for all your kind words and insistence. I was quite surprised to see that readers were still reading this story. You were the one to prompt me to continue. Thank you so, so much! I've never had such a faithful ready. **


	6. Chapter 6

**After that little cliffy, I figured it was time to post the next chapter. Don't worry, ****Sarela Jade**** I didn't forget or stop. I was just merely allowing the last chapter to sink in and to let all those who haven't seen the story in a while to catch up. But I do appreciate your loyalty. **

**I'm glad to see my old readers are back for more. Sorry again that it took so long. **

**Anywho, here's the next installation. Enjoy.**

Crow and Dove

_Chapter 6:_

Cold, warm, wet, dry, soft, hard, black, bright, pain, joy, confusion, understanding, bewilderment, disdain.

Emotions and feelings assaulted the man as his senses registered all that was him; all that was around him.

The rain was cold but his body was warm with the heat of fresh blood flowing through his veins.

The ground beneath him was wet with mud but his hat kept his head fairly dry.

The earth was soft and he grabbed two fistfuls of the moist dirt but the slab of stone beside him was hard against his back.

It was dark all around him but in the distance where a soft light shone from the church that watched over the graveyard. Shadows produced by the light spread out in all directions until merging into the rest of the black.

He felt the pain of life: the sharp intake of breath that froze his lungs; the cold wind blowing against him and making him shiver. But the joy of being alive warmed him.

He was confused as to where he was; who he was. But understanding that he was indeed alive mingled with his questions and made them appear by far less critical. And that fact that he was alive brought shock and loathing. He was supposed to be sleeping. Why had he been woken?

The shrill cry of a bird brought him back to the present and he looked to the gravestone. A black bird stared back at him, its head tilting each side to gaze upon the man that knelt in the mud above an open grave. The man stared back into those dark eyes and in those mirrors of black, he saw a man.

The man's expression was a mixture of shock and confusion. Sharp blue eyes met his from a pale face with dark patches under the eyes. The cheeks were shallow from hunger and the lips thin. A thin layer of stubble lined his chin and curled around his mouth.

The man was thin but contained a hidden strength in those muscular arms and broad shoulders built from years of labor. His clothes clung to his wet body and a tattered hat drooped over his eyes. Dark hair curled at his shoulders and dripped with water.

Still looking into the bird's glistening eye, the man lifted a hand up towards his face and was taken aback when he saw the man in that dark mirror do the same.

The man tore his eyes away from the crow, breaking the spell. He looked down at his hands covered in mud and took note of the calloused fingers and large palms. These hands weren't his.

Breathing raggedly with fear, the man jumped to his feet and examined his body. He wore the same thing the man in the bird's eye had been wearing. He had been looking in a mirror; he had been looking at himself.

But that just couldn't be!

The crow cawed at him loudly, attracting his attention. The crow hopped on the gravestone, tapping his beak against the hard granite expectantly.

The man swallowed heavily but reached out a tentative hand toward the grave. He had just enough time to register the name on the grave before his fingers touched the stone and a memory was forced into his mind.

_A drunken man ambled though the graveyard, singing audibly as he drank from his bottle of alcohol. He stopped to rest before a grave and sang a verse from a song created long ago. Suddenly, a hand broke out of the earth and latched onto the man. His screaming rang in the night as the body pulled itself out of its grave. A crow flew towards the screaming man and clinging corpse, its wings touching the foreheads of both men. Then the man silenced and fell to the ground as the corpse sank back into the earth. The ever watchful crow circled over the fallen man's head, cawing loudly. Then the man pushed himself up and looked at the stars for the first time in six years._

Eric Draven covered his face with his hands and screamed. The voice that tore from his throat was foreign on his tongue and the hands felt rough on his face.

This wasn't his voice. These weren't his hands. This wasn't his body.

Memories came flooding unbidden into his mind.

_It was Halloween: the night of his wedding with his beloved Shelley. He had left for only a moment but when he returned, a gang of men were abusing his finacee. He tried to protect her but they shot him and threw him out the window. He had died before her._

Eric threw himself to the ground, his screams echoing through the night. His fingers dug into his forehead; trying to claw at his mind and stop the onslaught of visions swimming behind his closed eyelids.

_It seemed like he had only been asleep for the night before he was awaken and thrust back into the world of the living. He returned to his home to find the place desecrated. Renewed anger emanated from his body as he swore revenge upon the men who had ended both his life and that of his love's. He colored his face in a disguise and left to start the hunt for those that had wronged him._

Eric's hands slid down his face to grip his chest. The heart in the body where his mind resided beat rapidly; painfully. The rain pelted his unprotected body but he was numb to it. He turned his exposed face to the sky and arched his back as the pain of life beat his poor body.

_One by one he hunted down the men that had killed his wife. He followed the chain of minions to their master: T-Bird. A single shot of a gun had rendered him vulnerable but he still fought that ruthless man. A final showdown on the roof of the church ended the life of the infamous crime boss and Eric was finally allowed to return to Shelley in death._

Water ran down his face but it wasn't rain. His vision burned with hot tears that streamed down his cheeks to mix with the mud of the earth. His voice grew coarse from screaming and he stopped from the pain. He sagged against the ground, breathing heavily from the mere exertion of breathing. The tears wouldn't stop and soon he was sobbing.

_A flash of straw-colored hair. A dazzling smile that managed to shine brightly despite the dark streets and weeping sky. A pleading gaze; a kind word; a warm body pressed against his in a hug. The sound of his name both in reverence and in fear. A curse and then a softened thank you. _

Eric's cries subsided as a new memory pushed through the darkness of his mind. It was the memory of a child whom had befriend him and then had grown loyal to both he and Shelley. A child that spent so much time with them that they began to considered her their own daughter. A child with such stubborn strength and a burning determination.

_She called for him, she cried for him, she smiled for him. He ran to her, he held her, he smiled back. He fought even when vulnerable to save her. He wanted her safe. He wanted her with him but knew it could not be. He left her to return to Shelley but allowed her to keep one last token of his and Shelley's existence: a ring._

Eric opened his eyes and looked to the sky as the rain lessened and finally stopped.

Slowly, he crawled back to his feet, still looking to the clouded sky. The crow watched him silently from its perch on the gravestone.

"Sarah."

**_._._._._._._**

**Yes, Eric's soul has been transferred to a new body. And don't say it's OOC because the whole fact that Eric came back to life in the first place is sci-fi. I'm merely adding more fiction. And, think about it. After six years, Eric's body would have been pretty decomposed. He'll explain that himself later though. **

**I hope your satisfied Sarela. And I hope you enjoyed it. And don't worry about your comments. I do very much enjoy and appreciate them. ^_^**

**A thanks to all those that are still reading. **

**Until next time,  
Hobey-Ho **


	7. Chapter 7

Crow and Dove

_Chapter 7:_

Eric's feet slapped noisily through the flooded narrow alley. Smoke rose from several vents that sprouted out of the sides of the alley, encompassing Eric in a shroud of mist.

The rain had stopped but everything still dripped with excess drops of water. The puddles Eric treaded through splashed up against his legs and swallowed his shoes until his feet were soaked with the cold water.

But he ran on, his face upturned to the sky; his eyes trained on a single black crow flying above him and leading the way. His surroundings passed by him unnoticed. His attention resided solely on that black bird.

He turned another corner and raced on, relishing the feeling of cold air sweeping into his lungs; the dampness that clung to his body; the wind that tore through his hair. He ran fast and strong and soon a smile had crept onto his lips.

He had forgotten what it was like to be alive.

The crow guided him through twisting alleys, across darkened streets, and past dimly lit taverns that reeked with alcohol. The acidic smell brunt Eric's nose but he inhaled anyway, taking in all the scents of the city.

Despite the six years he had been absent, the parts of the city that did register in his mind looked the same as before: dark and forlorn. T-Bird and his gang may have been gone but it seemed as if the city had done little to recover. No doubt, several new gangs had started to take over T-Bird's reign over the city.

And somewhere amongst the looming buildings and menacing streets was Sarah.

Eric knew that the crow was taking him to her. Why else had he come back? Sarah was his only reason to do so. He had made a promise to her. But why was he woken now and not earlier?

Was Sarah in trouble?

The thought encouraged Eric to run faster as his surroundings became a blur around him except for that black target flying low over him.

At last the crow landed on an everted piece of wood that had been poorly fastened across an old door. Eric slowed to a stop in front of the building; his eyes distracted from the crow as he tilted his head back to examine the building that he had been taken to.

Old and crumbling from lack of care, the building was infested with splinters and cracks and covered with moss. The paint had long since peeled away and the brick was slowly degrading into dust. The shingles of the roof were absent and the glass in the windows had all been cleared away.

At the very top of the building was a gaping mouth where a grand circular window had been. The glass had been shattered from the iron structure and the shards now cackled under Eric's shoes as he stepped back to get a better look at the building. A few stray boards had been fastened across the broken window but – like the rest of the structure – were rapidly disintegrating.

The crow squawked impatiently and Eric obediently stepped up the stone steps to the deteriorated door. The crow flapped its wings and disappeared into the darkness within.

Eric kicked against the boards of wood blocking his way and the wood gave way easily from the force; a thin tendril of dust scattering wildly around him.

Eric cautiously entered.

He moved forward in the dark, shooting furtive glances at the spare patches of light created by the lamp outside and the weak moonlight. The crow waited for him atop a banister connected to a twisting set of stairs that wound up into the interior of the building.

Catching Eric's attention, the crow cawed and tapped the metal railing with its beak. Looking pointedly at Eric for a brief moment, the crow flew up a flight to gaze down at Eric with one shining eye.

Eric approached the banister with a foreboding feeling swirling in his gut. He looked up at the crow skeptically. The bird cawed at him expectantly. Swallowing down his anxiety, Eric reached out a shaking hand and wrapped his fingers around the cold metal.

He pulled away seconds later; a fresh memory burned in his mind.

He had walked up these stairs before, hand in hand with his beloved Shelley.

Eric looked up into the looming darkness that clung to the ceiling of the building. Seven years ago, he had lived her with the woman he was going to make his wife.

Six years ago he had returned to relive the life he had lost. His home at the top of the apartment had become his secret base; his sanctuary.

Now he was back. Nothing had changed except for the age. It looked as if the people of the city still refused to enter the place and were too scared to tear it down. They were all afraid to disturb the wrath of the Crow.

The crow squawked at Eric and flew up another flight of stairs. Taking the hint, Eric slowly followed, taking a step at a time and wincing as the prickles of memory sparked in the back of his mind.

Each step brought a brief flash of the past: Shelley, Sarah, a smiling neighbor. Eric ascended faster; the scenes of his previous life flashing swiftly though his head. He started to run and the flickering images merged to create a complete scene.

_Shelley squealed with delight as she raced up the stairs, shooting taunting glances down at Eric as he climbed the stairs two at a time to catch up with her. Sarah's laughter filtered up from behind him as the smaller girl attempted to keep up with him. _

_They passed several neighbors who quickly pressed against the side of the stairwell to avoid being caught into the chase; shaking their heads with amused smiles as they watch the three clamber up the steps. _

_Shelley made it to the top first and flitted towards their apartment door. She fumbled with the key and Eric took her delay to his advantage. By the time she had managed to open the door, Eric was upon her. He threw his arms around her; nuzzling his lips against her neck, and she released a surprised cry that mingled with jovial laughter. _

_His first prey captured, Eric turned a mischievous eye at Sarah in time to see the gasping girl approach the final step. He lunged at her and Shelley screamed at Sarah to run. A wide grin broke out on Sarah's face as the small girl turned on her heel and pelted down the stairs, Shelley's encouragement telling her to go faster through peals of laughter. _

_But Eric was too fast. Before Sarah could even make it to the next floor, Eric was upon her. He grabbed at the hood of her jacket and pulled the girl back into his arms. He hauled her over his shoulder as she shrieked with laughter and carried her back up to the top floor where Shelley waited; clapping her hands for the conclusion of the game. _

_Eric had won again._

Eric blinked.

He stood gasping on the top floor, sweat dripping from his brow. He could almost hear Shelley's echoing laughter and Sarah's warmth in his arms.

He blinked again and the illusion was gone. The vision had faded back into a memory and a sadness overtook him.

Shelley was gone.

But Sarah.

The crow reclaimed Eric's attention and he followed its coarse grunts to a door. The crow waited inside and as soon as Eric drew near the doorway, it fluttered up into the rafters and was lost amid the darkness.

Eric walked through the empty doorway cautiously; the door having fallen away long ago. The wood creaked under his weight and he could feel its spongy softness from the relentless rain that assaulted it.

Moonlight streamed brokenly in through the gaping window and a stiff breeze blew around Eric's feet, making his shiver.

He carefully dodged around various broken furniture and particles of shadowed objects. A few holes marred the floor with their jagged-toothed mouths, and at their bellies was more darkness.

Strangely, a lone box stood in the far corner of the room; furthest away from the window and the chilling breeze that filtered through it. The box was large but old and battered. A few clothes, empty food containers, and used items were scattered around it.

Curious – and with a strong sense that this was what the crow had wanted him to see – Eric crept closer. He approached the box on silent feet and peered down into its mouth to see a figure huddled inside.

The figure's back was facing Eric and a blanket was wrapped tightly around it but he could still see the river of hair cascading down onto the floor around the head. It looked so familiar.

"Shelley?" Eric asked incredulously; still unaccustomed to his new voice.

The figure shifted and rolled over.

It wasn't Shelley.

It was a different woman.

And her eyes were wide open.

**_._._._._._**

**Sorry this one took a while to post. It's getting harder to find free time. **

**So, Sarah and Eric have finally met. But now they both look entirely different. Explanations should be fun.**

**I hope to hear more from my readers. Sarela, I'm always anxious to hear your insight. **

**Until next time,  
Hobey-Ho**


	8. Chapter 8

**My dearest Sarela Jade…**

**I AM SOOOO SORRY FOR TAKING SO FREAKIN' LONG TO POST ANOTHER CHAPTER!**

**I actually have a long and boring explanation as to why it took so long to post, but that doesn't matter. I'm glad you stuck with me so long and so patiently. And you have nothing to apologize for. I don't care how many reviews you leave because I love them all. I could never be annoyed by your reviews because I crave your opinions and compliments. Keep reading, keep writing your wonderful reviews, and don't stop being so great. **

**I know I have a lot more devoted fans and readers out there who have been waiting for another update. Here it is. And thank you for your patience. It hasn't gone unnoticed. **

**Enjoy.**

Crow and Dove

_Chapter 8:_

She didn't have time to think.

She didn't have time to wonder why there was a man looking down at her or how that man had found her or why he had decided to venture into a cursed building in the first place.

As soon as she saw that shadowed face and those glistening blue eyes staring at her, she reacted.

The reaction was completely involuntary.

She screamed.

The cacophonous sound pierced the quiet night and bounced against the walls of the room. The man looming over her cringed and retreated from the horrid sound that made even Sarah's ears rings unpleasantly.

As soon as the face was out of view, Sarah's mind returned to its normal processing order and instinct took over surprise.

She snapped her mouth shut and jumped out of the box, landing on her open hands and using her momentum to curl her body into a roll and slide effortlessly across the ground. Her feet landed on solid ground and she was back on her feet within the next second; her long hair whipping behind her.

She faced her adversary as the man turned to look at her. She raised her fists in preparation for a fight. Being a grown woman living alone in a lawless city had forced her to take up the practice of self-defense.

She bent her knees; tense and ready to jump and run if the man had a gun. She could hold off a knife for a while and was certainly advantaged at hand-to-hand combat, but against a gun she was defenseless.

But the man seemed to be wielding no weapon whatsoever. He cautiously stepped towards her; hands empty and open in the air to show that he had no item with which to cause her harm with.

"Sarah?" he asked in a slightly accented voice.

She stiffened. This stranger knew her name. Was he one of Thrash's gang looking to get his own personal reward?

"Back off," Sarah spat vehemently. She stepped around the man in a slow circle; keeping her eyes locked on her target.

"Sarah, it's me," the man pleaded, following Sarah without moving from where he stood. He realized that Sarah was a weapon he didn't want to mess with.

"Better be a bit more specific if you don't want to get your ass kicked," Sarah shot back snidely. "Better yet, why don't you just leave now and no one will have to get hurt."

"It's Eric."

Sarah froze where she stood; eyes wide and mouth agape. For a moment, her fists went slack and all she could do was stare at the man standing before her.

"Shut up!" she cried out.

She rushed at the man and swung a right hook at his jaw. Taken aback, the man could only retreat to avoid Sarah's fist. She swung her left hand and this too was dodged. Keeping the momentum of her body's spin, Sarah lifted her foot and aimed a kick for the man's torso.

Her body was stopped abruptly as the man took hold of her foot before she could make contact.

"My name is Eric Draven," Eric explained calmly.

"I said shut it!" Sarah exclaimed and twisted free from the man. She backpedaled and shrouded herself in the shadows.

This man was not Eric. Those eyes were too blue and that hair was too light. After six years, Eric would have looked like a decomposed corpse, not a half-starved man that looked like he had been begging on the street only hours before. Not a man covered in rags and a tattered hat.

He couldn't possibly be Eric.

"You're not Eric," Sarah voiced her thoughts aloud. "Eric's dead."

"I've come back," the man claiming to be Eric said gently, "again."

How dare he hurt her like this? How dare he taunt her with the memories of her departed friend?

With a feral cry, Sarah rushed at Eric again. She ducked low and swung a leg at Eric's feet. Her shin connected with the back of the man's ankles and the force of the impact sent him tumbling backwards. Before he had hit the ground, Sarah was already up and preparing for her next attack.

She lifted her foot and slammed it down. The man reacted quickly and rolled away from her as he foot crashed against the floor; splintering the wood. She glared daggers at her rising adversary and sprang again, her fist aimed at his solar plexus to render him immobile with air-deprived lungs. But Eric was too fast and slipped past her; slapping her hand aside and causing her to stagger off balance.

He reached out a hand to steady her but Sarah knocked it aside. She quickly composed herself and launched another attack. Again, Eric dodged. He didn't try to land his own attack but continued to dance just out of her range.

Frustration and her growing rage mingled with a clutching pain that gripped her heart and forced her breaths to come out in sobbing gasps. Her vision blurred with the anger that this man was taking the identity of her friend and at the sadness of remembering said friend.

However, the pain from the night before was taking a toll and her attacks became unfocused and feeble. Her punches went wide and Eric was walking around her instead of jumping away as before. She gasped painfully, the fire returning to her shoulder where the bullet had been removed. Her legs shook and her hands trembled. All the while, the man gazed at her sadly with those crystalline eyes.

"Just go," Sarah gaped, catching her breath as she stood opposite her opponent.

"I've come to help you," Eric insisted, taking a step closer.

"Shut the hell up!" Sarah screamed. "You're not Eric. You don't even look like him. He's dead. He's not coming back."

He had come back to life only once to avenge Shelley. He had no reason to return again. Despite her constant dreams and wishes that he would come for her, she knew that they were only that: dreams and wishes. In reality, people didn't come back from the dead.

"I know I look different," Eric agreed, "I can't explain it. You're just going to have to trust me."

A sardonic, wry laugh erupted from Sarah's throat, making her seem far older than she actually was. "Trust you?" she asked in a voice coarse from shouting.

"I can help you," Eric continued, stepping forward carefully. "But you need to tell me why you're in trouble."

Sarah withdrew from his extended hands. She shook her head slowly in denial. It just wasn't possible. It couldn't be.

She took another step back.

Her foot didn't land on solid ground.

With a startled gasp, Sarah's heart caught in her throat as her foot landed upon open air and then her body fell back. Her other foot slipped and she fell through a hole in the floor.

The jagged floorboards bit into her legs and scratched her as she fell down. She reflexively threw out her arms and used them to brace herself against the outline of the hole. She cried out on pain as the wood dug into her chest and her shoulder protested angrily as she tried to keep herself from falling further through the hole. It was a long drop to the bottom.

Tired from her fight, Sarah panicked as she felt herself slowly lose her hold and slip back further into the darkness that had already consumed her legs.

Suddenly, the man was hovering above her. Kneeling on solid ground, he leaned over her and wrapped one strong hand under her arm; bracing himself with his other hand. He started to pull her up and her descent ceased. Thinking only of survival, Sarah threw one hand up to wrap around Eric's back; clutching the back of his shirt as she pulled herself up with his help.

As soon as her torso cleared the hole, she wrapped both arms securely around him as he pulled her completely clear of the hole. He pressed her close with one hand and pushed himself back; dragging Sarah with him and onto the safety of solid ground.

Gasping loudly together, Eric and Sarah sat still: Sarah still clinging to the man as he gently embraced her.

When her breathing had steadied and the pain in her shoulder had died down to a dull throb, Sarah pulled away to sit opposite the man that had saved her life. Eric gazed back at her patiently, his striking eyes boring into her.

"Prove it," she whispered. "Prove to me you're Eric."

Eric studied her for a moment; his expression impassive. Then his gaze dropped down to the necklace that dangled from Sarah's neck.

Wordlessly, Eric extended his hand. Sarah didn't pull away.

His fingers wrapped around the ring and lifted it up so both he and Sarah could see.

"A long time ago, I gave this ring to Shelley Webster. It was my promise to marry her and to forever be her husband," Eric began; his eyes never averting from Sarah's. "But I couldn't keep that promise. Not as her husband. We both died. But I came back to avenge her death."

Eric took Sarah's hand with delicate fingers and lifted her hand to the ring. He gently pressed the ring into her palm and closed her fingers around it; placing his own hands over hers.

"When my job was done, I gave it to you. I told you that Shelley would have wanted you to have it." He smiled. "I'm glad you kept your promise."

Tears welled in Sarah's eyes and Eric dropped his hands and sat still, waiting for her reply.

Sarah looked down at her clenched hand.

_I'll never take it off._

She had made that promise before saying goodbye to Eric.

She looked up at Eric now; at the foreign face with those eyes of sapphire and hair of thick honey. She felt the first tears trickle down her face.

"Eric."

**._._._._._.**

**So Eric and Sarah have finally met. Time for explanations from both sides. **

**I shall be waiting for your input Sarela, and for the input of all those who have been so supportive in the past. My updates may be far and few between but I appreciate all your reviews. Thank you to all my readers. **

**Until next time,  
Hobey-Ho**


	9. Chapter 9

**Before you read this newest chapter (yay!) can I just say that I really, and I mean **_**really**_**, love you guys. I'm serious. There's not many people who are so supportive and encouraging and kind and further words that you can look up in the thesaurus like you, my readers. **

**I appreciate your every word and critique. I do. I am one lucky writer to have readers like you. I'm sure I've said it before, but it's people like you that make me write and post. If it wasn't for you all, I'd probably had given up on this story already.**

**So, thank you. **

**And don't give up on your stories either. You'll be surprised how many faithful – and perhaps somewhat annoying – readers you'll get. **

**Ok, after that sappy little outburst, you're probably waiting to actually read what you came here to read. Go on, then. **

Crow and Dove

_Chapter 9:_

For the second time in weeks, Sarah cried.

She cried for her hardships that had forced her to evolve into who she was. She cried for the pain she felt from her empty stomach and dry throat. She cried for the people she knew and lost; the people she saw and envied; the people she ran away from and feared.

But most of all, she cried in relief that she wasn't alone anymore and the man that she had wished so desperately to return to her was now holding her in a fierce embrace; a warm smile curving his lips up.

She cried because she had missed him.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed but it had been long enough to dry her eyes and quiet her sobs. She lay huddled in Eric's embrace as he rocked her. Her eyes hurt from crying and she was tempted to fall asleep. But the fear that she would wake to find that Eric had just been a dream prevented her from doing so.

At last, Eric pushed her away and cupped her face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs against her tear-stained cheeks. She lifted a hand and snaked it into his, pressing the back of his hand against her cheek. She relished in the warmth that radiated from it.

Still holding onto his hand, she looked up at his face, drowning in those oceanic eyes, and smiled. "How is it possible?" she asked softly.

"I don't know," Eric replied honestly. "You'll have to ask him." He looked up to the rafters and Sarah followed his gaze to a black crow preening its feathers.

"Why do you look like this?"

"I don't know?" Eric repeated. "I guess my body isn't as durable as my soul." He flexed one hand.

"Why are you here?"

"I don't know," Eric answered in a voice quieter than before. He searched Sarah's eyes. "I think you have to tell me that."

Sarah frowned and looked away, a shiver passing over her. Eric noticed. He gripped her hand and used his other to gently cup her chin and guide her eyes to meet his.

"Sarah, the only way I can help you is if I know what's happening," Eric explained gently. Sarah's hand had started shaking in his.

He searched her eyes once more, debating on whether or not to uproot the memories that still haunted Sarah. He decided that her safety was more important.

Eric gently wiggled his hand out of Sarah's grasp and placed his palms against her temples. "I'm going to see for myself, all right?" he asked with a gentle smile.

Sarah swallowed uneasily but nodded.

"Just relax," Eric assured. He closed his eyes and touched his forehead to Sarah's.

A different shiver ran along Sarah's spine as she closed her eyes.

._._._.

Eric opened his eyes.

He was hiding, peeking out of a sliver of an opening between the doors of a small closet. He was scared. Bad men were here.

Eric peered out of the opening and was able to see three men enter the room. There was a blonde woman there too. Her back was to him and she was waving her arms, shouting angrily at the men. Eric felt the heat of rage tense his muscles and make his face burn. But he didn't dare reveal himself.

The woman demanded the men to go but they slapped her aside with ease. One knelt down and pinned her to the ground, a crazed lust gleaming in his eyes.

Eric reacted. He jumped out of the closet; the cool metal of a gun clutched tightly in his hands, and pointed it at the man he knew was the leader. He felt his mouth move but the words that came out were muffled and incoherent as if he were talking underwater.

The men laughed and the woman cried but Eric stood firm, the gun shaking in his hands. The leader sauntered closer, a sadistic smile on his face.

The gun fired. The man fell.

The others watched in amazed horror as Eric lowered the gun. He could feel the warmth of blood that was not his drip down his face. He could smell the metallic scent that emanated from the listless body on the floor.

Eric wanted to get away before more men came but he couldn't. He wasn't in control of his body.

Because he was looking through Sarah's eyes. And she had just killed a man.

The men backed away and ran out of the room. The woman – she had to be Sarah's mother – crawled over to Eric and held him, sobbing loudly. Sarah was still holding the gun and Eric couldn't make her let go.

The woman calmed enough to pack some food in a bag and then she led Eric out of the house. They started running, Eric going as fast as he could but with Sarah's short legs, he tired quickly. They ran for a long time until the woman found refuge in an abandoned storage building. She settled him inside and gave him the food.

She was still crying.

Her mouth moved with words Eric couldn't hear and then she kissed his forehead. Eric felt dread as his heart fell to his stomach. The woman stood but Sarah's hands still clung to her. The woman pushed Eric away and ran out of the room. Eric heard shouts and gunshots and then they were gone.

A sadness overwhelmed him and he cried. He cried for a long time, waiting for Sarah's mother, the mother he felt was his own, to return. But she didn't.

At last, Eric stood and walked away.

Images blurred together with strings of random sounds: sirens, yelling, guns, until the play button was pressed and the images slowed to show that he was standing in front of a warehouse. He was taller now, older.

A man came out and looked him over. Eric stood tall, wanting to impress and be accepted.

At last, the man waved him in and Eric entered a room of ragged-looking men and woman in black clothes. They all had guns. Eric looked down to see that he still held the gun Sarah had used to kill the man before.

Again, Sarah's life moved into fast forward. He saw images of vandalizing with the gang he had joined; stealing for a living. He saw more death, but not by his hand. He saw men staring at him lustily; felt their hard grips that he had to fight away.

He felt cold and hunger and fear and remorse and sadness. He felt completely alone.

Now he was older, perhaps far older than he should have been. He was on a mission. The gun was held at the ready in his hands. He stalked quietly through the room of a vacant house. He didn't want to think about what had happened to the previous owners.

Laughter and voices sounded from the far room. Light streamed out from the doorway and he could see countless people sitting around with drinks in their hands.

These were the men. He was sure of it. These were the people that had killed his mother. And his mission was to get revenge.

Eric screamed at Sarah to stop; used all of his will to get her to turn around. But this was the past and he had no control over what was to happen next.

Sarah barged into the room, shooting her gun with fevered rage; yelling at the stunned men as they blinked at her before falling to the floor with cries of alarm. He managed to hit a few before the gun was empty.

A large and cruel man stood up and roared with an uncontrolled fury that made Eric's heart skip a beat. A name flashed in his head.

Thrash. The man that had taken the role of the man Sarah had killed. The leader.

The man leveled a gun at him and Eric dove to the side as bullets ripped the air where he had been standing. He stood quickly and ran, Thrash shouting after him as footsteps pounded behind him.

Eric panicked. His mission had failed and hadn't gone according to plan. He knew he was going to die. Thrash was the very definition of death. He had miscalculated and now he was going to pay.

He ran, hard and fast. A safe location popped into his head and he started towards the graveyard. He knew that if he could just get there, he would live.

He felt the bite of a bullet enter his shoulder. He felt scratches and bruises. He watched as Sarah's mind flashed back to a happier life in the company of the man and a woman who were about to be married.

The rest was a blur of fear until Eric blinked and he was sitting before two graves. Sarah lifted her face to the sky and let out a long cry full of pain and Eric's cry mingled with hers.

._._._.

Eric pulled away with a cry and the memory abruptly faded. He crumbled to the ground, holding his head as tears streamed down his cheeks. The agonizing pain and anguish still paralyzed him. The fire from the bullet wound still burned him. So much fear. So alone.

He couldn't stand it.

But all he was feeling was what the memory had shown him. These weren't his true emotions. They were merely software he had downloaded from another source. The real owner of the emotions he felt was someone else.

Eric opened watery eyes and blinked to focus on a young woman sitting before him. She looked down at him as her own silent tears trickled down her face. Her eyes were that of someone who had seen all that they wanted to see in the world.

"I'm sorry," Eric murmured. He pressed his hands to his eyes but the tears still came. "I'm so sorry."

Far above them, the dove clucked sympathetically, the sound in itself mimicking that of an apology.

**._._._._._.**

**So that's Sarah's past up to this point. Eric's past is pretty short because he just came back to life. **

**I'll see you guys later I guess. Thanks for reading! ^_^**

**Hobey-Ho**


	10. Chapter 10

**My dearest Sarela Jade. As always, my written words – and inspiration – are dedicated to you. Your devotion and encouraging words have given me the spur to write and post another chapter. Enjoy. **

Crow and Dove

_Chapter 10:_

It was quiet except for the soft whisper of rain. Clouds drifted through the sky; the moon casting struggling individual rays of light down upon the drenched city. Most people had retired to the safety of whatever shelter was available to them whether it was a bar, an abandoned building, or a spot under a dripping awning. A few wanderers trudged through the drowned streets, their footsteps creating more whispers of water.

A lone crow on a mission emerged from its hiding place and glided through the rain effortlessly. It dipped down over the rooftops and angled to the left and disappeared. A dove, pale white in the dark, watched it go but didn't follow. Instead, it tilted its head down at two people who shared the shelter of an abandoned apartment with it.

A bedraggled man sat cross-legged in contemplation, cheeks still damp from shed tears. His scattered thoughts shifted from the purpose of his return to the memory of the vision he had shared with his friend.

Said friend sat behind him, her own eyes red and watery. She sat silently with her hands clenched together in her lap and legs folded under her. She sat in that same position when the man had relived her memories and then had recoiled from their effect. She sat in that same position even as the man had collected himself, gazed at her sadly for a moment, and then had turned away to take up his thoughtful pose. And a statue she remained, her eyes locked onto the back of that man.

"What now?" she rasped in a voice that barely made it past the lump in her throat.

Eric sighed and opened his eyes. It made little difference. It was still dark. But when he turned to face Sarah, he saw her clearly, her figure draped in a ray of moonlight that managed to slip through the cracked ceiling.

He knew what he had to do but he doubted Sarah would agree.

"I take down Thrash," he answered darkly.

Sarah's eyes widened and she leaned forward, breaking her formation to place one uncertain hand down on the floor. "But he's strong. Stronger than T-Bird and the others. And he has an army of hired guns."

Eric shrugged and stood. "I came back for a reason," he said simply in a gentle voice usually reserved for quelling the fears of a frightened child. "I made a promise to Shelley to take care of you and that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to take down the man that hurt you."

"Why?" Sarah stammered. "Can't we just run away? Leave this place? Hide?"

Eric sadly shook his head as he crouched down before Sarah. "If you could have left this place, I'm sure you would have already."

Sarah bit back a retort. Traveling in the open was a dangerous risk night or day. There was always someone watching. Besides, she had no friends or family to help her or take her in. She would still be alone and being alone in a familiar place was better than in a foreign land. She knew where all the escape routes where here.

That and she didn't want to leave Eric and Shelley.

"And Thrash doesn't seem like the type to give up on a chase."

That was true too. If someone crossed Thrash or tried to run from the gang, he hunted them down. He had the resources: eyes in the sky and on the ground. His men were assassins trained to follow a trail and remove any threat or inconvenience. Hiding was pointless too.

"I have to do this," Eric continued, slipping his hands under Sarah's in an assuring manner. He came back to protect her and that was what he was going to.

Sarah searched Eric's eyes, seeing only his resolution. There would be no arguing with him. More tears welled up in her eyes and her lips quivered.

"What if you get hurt?" she asked desperately. "What if he kills you?" Sarah pulled her hands out of Eric's in frustration.

"I can't lose you again!"

Eric straightened in surprise at the declaration. Sarah sat stiffly before him, biting down on her quivering bottom lip and blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. Anger mixed with remorse and absolute fear raged in her features.

Eric's gaze softened and he leaned forward to wrap the rigid girl in a hug.

"You won't," he assured.

Sarah lifted shaking hands to grip the back of Eric's shirt and allowed her head to rest against his shoulder, turning her head to hide her face against his neck.

She hated this.

She hated having to be the piteous damsel in distress who could only cry and wait for her hero to rescue her. She hated feeling so helpless, unable to provide Eric any assistance in taking down her threat because she wasn't strong enough help. She hated being the cause of the burden Eric had decided to take. It was her fault that Thrash was hunting her and now it was her fault that Eric was hunting him. She hated herself for being so weak and breaking down in front of Eric.

She hated all of it.

But despite the self-loathing roaring within her, she relished in the feeling of holding her friend again; of being able to touch him; to hear his voice; to inhale and smell his familiar scent that managed to be integrated into his new body.

"How can you be sure?" she murmured, nuzzling closer into the nook of Eric's neck. He was still soft.

Eric paused.

"To be honest," he said after a moment, "I'm not."

Sarah pulled out of his embrace to stare at him in horror. She had been expecting reassurance. Not doubt. "What?"

Eric looked to the rafters but didn't see the crow. No answers there then.

"Aren't you invincible?" Sarah asked hurriedly. "Like last time?"

"I don't know," Eric admitted honestly. "I hope so." He offered Sarah a grin in an attempt to lighten the mood.

It failed.

Sarah gaped at him and abruptly stood up to pace in front of him. "What do you mean you don't know? Wouldn't you know if you're invincible or not?"

Eric stood uneasily. Sarah continued to pace, muttering under her breath. Suddenly, she stopped and straightened decisively.

"Then I'm going with you."

Now it was Eric's turn to gape. "No," he said firmly after he had recovered.

Sarah faltered slightly at the tone but marched up to stand bravely before Eric. "Yes I am," she retorted. "If you're not invincible then you can get hurt." Sarah averted her gaze, inhaled deeply, and then turned back, her gaze fierce and determined. "I know how to use a gun and I can spy for you. I can distract them if you need me to. I can help. You won't need to protect me." _I will not be the damsel in distress._

Though she didn't say the last part out loud, she seemed to emanate the statement.

Eric was taken aback and then joy flooded him at the prospect of Sarah's loyalty to him. But he couldn't ask her to come. It would be dangerous and she had already been hurt. Eric's eyes flickered to her shoulder where he knew a bullet wound resided. No, he couldn't have her getting into any more trouble. And he certainly didn't want those delicate, gentle hands holding the harsh metal of a gun again.

So, without another word, Eric spun on his heel and walked to the broken window of ragged wood and glass. He pinched off a piece of the tarnished glass. He turned back to Sarah and held the glass out to her for display. Sarah watched him, anxiety ruling as the superior expression.

"If I am invincible, then you won't need to come with me, right?" Eric asked expectantly.

Sarah connected what Eric was proposing with the glass he held ready in his hand and she released a gasp as her feet reflexively propelled her forward, just as Eric plunged the jagged glass toward his hand.

Sarah was faster.

"Stop!" she cried as she gripped Eric's hand and the glass he held, stopping him from cutting himself. She wrestled the glass out of his hand, ignoring the pricking pain as the glass carved thin slits into her fingers.

She threw the glass out the window and then turned on Eric, fury alight in her eyes. "Idiot! I don't care if you're invincible or not. I'm coming with you. Got it?"

Eric just stared at her. Sadness and pride glistened in his eyes at the sight of the person before him. Sarah was no longer the little girl he once knew. She was a woman now: strong and fierce. Though he didn't like it, Sarah was an adult, and as such, she was entitled to make her own decisions. Eric couldn't stop her nor did it appear as if he could deter her either.

And then he smiled. Sarah was a brave woman and was willing to fight by his side. He appreciated her faithfulness towards him.

"All right," he finally said. "It looks like I can't stop you."

Sarah's face immediately brightened as she relaxed in relief. "Not even if you tried."

Eric smiled back at her but it was a mask. Inside, he was terrified for her safety. He didn't want her getting hurt again. He wasn't going to let her get hurt again. Unnoticed by Sarah, he clenched his fists in response to the unspoken promise.

Above him, the dove bristled, fluffing up its feathers in an agitated manner. Glancing once more at the young woman below it, the dove took off in a flurry of feathers and sailed out into the rain to join the crow.

**._._._._._._.**

**Sorry this took so long. Hopefully the next chapter will come sooner. **

**So, not sure if Eric's invincible and Sarah has volunteered to go against Thrash with him. **

**What's going to happen next? Guess you'll have to wait and see. And please inform me of any typos please so that I can fix them ASAP.**

**My thanks to all my reviewers, especially the annoying ones. Happy New Year everyone.**

**Hobey-Ho**


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